


Innocence

by LotharWinchester



Series: Fallout Snippets/ Shorts [4]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: A9-62, Eventual Smut, Implied Relationships, Multi, Not Beta Read, Past Relationship(s), Synth!Maxson, Synths (Humans), Threesome - F/M/M, escapist thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-22 23:30:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6097483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotharWinchester/pseuds/LotharWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the shocking discovery in the wreckage of the Prydwen, Danse has to deal with his feelings for his former best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own fallout 4, Bethesda does.  
> this can be considered a sequel to "Double Cross".

Danse could hardly believe it on a good day.  The little boy that had grown to become the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel’s East Coast chapter had been replaced by a synth.

The former Paladin watched the synth that wore his former best friend’s face as he worked on a more comfortable chair for Mama Murphy. The old sight seer smiled sadly when the synth was absorbed in his task. She knew.  She always _knew_.

“It’s been a month, I don’t think he’s going to kill us all in our sleep.” Sole laughed softly as she handed him a bottle of purified water, “Relax. He’s here now.” The implication of what would have happened if the Brotherhood found out weighed heavily in her words. “I need to ask you a favor, Garrison.”

“Of course.” Danse glanced down at the petite woman beside him. He knew that anyone who didn’t know her would’ve misjudged her strength and abilities.

“I will be leaving tomorrow for the Institute.”  The only acknowledgment of the tension between them was the slight crinkling sound from the bottle in Danse’s hand.  “I’ll be gone for a few weeks. But I’m going to try to free as many synths as I can.” Danse’s eyes met hers as she interlaced their fingers. “I’ve been working with the Railroad, Garrison. We’ve managed to gather the support of most of the synths and a few Institute residents.”  She swallowed thickly and moved to hug him close, “I’m going to find out what happened to Arthur while I’m there. I promise Danse.”

He allowed her to lead him inside of their house and shut the door behind them. “You want me to watch over the settlement with Preston?” Danse let go of her hand and moved towards the bathroom. 

“You know I would bring you if I could.” The _I don’t want you to get hurt_ underneath stung as he washed the grime off of his hands and peeled his soaked white t shirt from his bulky frame.

“Garrison...” she whispered as she tugged the zipper of her vault suit towards her navel. Sole swore under her breath as his hands pushed his faded jeans down to his ankles.

“You said you were leaving tomorrow, not tonight.”  Danse pulled Sole into his arms and tilted her chin up for a kiss. “I want you all to myself.”

* * *

 

Arthur’s hands ached as he up righted Mama Murphy’s new chair and moved it inside the common house.

“Thank you, dear.” He gently took her hand and helped her inside. Someone had given her chems this month even though she was supposed to be detoxing. Her tremors had returned with a vengeance in the last few days. He’d seen how worried Preston was about her and Arthur was more than happy to help the older woman. She was the only one who looked at him without confusion or pity. She just understood. This old chem addict of a woman understood that he was not the real Arthur Maxson, but a synth that had replaced him. She had given him the near devastating news of what probably happened to the last of the Maxson line when Sole refused to confirm his suspicions.  

 _“I’m sorry,”_ he remembered the softness of her tone and the feel of her wrinkled hands on his unscarred cheek, _“They kill the people they replace.”_

The wise woman also knew of his dreams and memory flashes. How he hadn’t told Sole or Danse about them.  It would’ve given them false hope that their Arthur was alive.

But the memory of Sole’s skin pressed against his in his quarters never left him. The way she moaned as he kissed her and pinched her nipples between his fingers. Or how she nearly screamed his name as she came and let him come inside of her fully knowing the risk of her getting pregnant. He could still feel the satisfied kiss she’d given him linger on his lips.  

What tainted the experience was the flash of emotion and memory he had afterwards as she slept in his arms. He’d felt such a strong sense of pain and heartache along with the flash and feel of cold glass. Before he could make any sense of it, Sole had kissed him and asked him what was wrong. All of this the night before he found out Danse was a synth.

The cruel irony was his discovery. The holotapes from the Institute were compared to the DNA taken from the real Arthur before he left for the Commonwealth. Before he was replaced. So he hadn’t shown up as what he truly was.  A9-62. That’s what Sole had said his Synth identification number was.

Mama Murphy watched as his inner pain flooded his eyes. He’d overheard Preston talking about preparations for Sanctuary and the Castle while she was away. He knew he’d have to ask now or he’d never get his chance.

He apologized to her before he made his way to Sole’s home.  The Synth scrounged his brain for how to say what he wanted.

He should’ve guessed she wouldn’t be alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: I don't own Fallout and/or Fallout 4, Betheda does. 
> 
> \- I just started new medication that makes me drowsy so tell me if there are any spelling mistakes.

Once Sole had left with MacCready and Hancock, Danse begrudgingly passed through Sanctuary’s metal gates and ground his teeth together as they slammed shut. He had to confront A9… Arthur about what had happened the night before.

He was surprised when Preston informed him that the other synth had taken up building turrets and many of the food tasks he’d been planning on taking up at a later date. It was the look on the Minutemen’s face that said something was wrong.

“Do you have something to say, Preston?” Danse grunted as Sturges turned on his heels and went back into the common house. It was the one across from Sole’s pre-war home ad had both of their power armor sets in bays.

“He’s different.” Preston frowned as he crossed his arms and leveled his eyes with Danse’s. “He’s still got the same work ethic and still stays with Mama Murphy but..”  Danse arched an eyebrow as the synth in question slowly assisted the old woman to her new chair in the sun.  “his drive to fit in is gone and he hasn’t eaten anything.”  The synth kneeled down and began to sort through the pile of wood beside the comfy chair and set to work. “It’s almost like he’s lost his will…”

Danse’s shoulder’s sagged as he sighed heavily and rested one of his hands on Preston’s shoulder. “I’ll go talk with him. But there is something you need to know first.”

\--

He’d managed to stay busy and out of Danse’s way for four days.  Four long days. He’d filled the time with constructing a small table to go beside Mama Murphy’s new chair for her food and activates as well as a large umbrella to keep the sun out of her eyes. She’d thanked him by repairing his battle coat.  

 _Arthur’s coat._  He reminded himself as he thanked her, showing no signs of his internal distress. He’d begun to refer to himself as A9 in his thoughts as more and more flashes flooded his dreams and waking hours.  Either he was losing his mind or Arthur Maxson was still alive and somehow directly connected to him.

A part of him wondered if Arthur was trying to hold onto his sense of self and break out of the Institute at the same time.  _We have to be at least neurologically connected, right?_

 _What if she finds him there?_ He’d schooled his expression as he dug a long trench from the river to the main water collection pool two houses away from the common house and garden. _If he is, will she be able to honor my wishes?_ His hands were raw and bloody from shoveling but he barely noticed the pain until he laid down to sleep at night. By the third day, he’d started on the large water purifier with spare parts from Sturges.

He had started to think the cold embrace of death, a single utter of his currently unknown recall code, would ease him of his pain and they would be free to have their Arthur back.

Once he was returned, they would have no use for a copy. He presumed the organic parts of his body would decay and his mechanical ones would hopefully be put to good use for the settlement.

The sun had set as he pondered this. The purifier was finished and ran at maximum efficiency which considerably eased their water shortage and allowed for more clean water to be diverted to the growing crop section and medical house for disinfecting tools. Hell, even some could be spared for baths and or showers.  Many of the settlers greeted him with a hug or a kiss on his unmarred cheek in thanks.

Sturges had saved him left overs and held out the plate with the item he’d asked for underneath it. A medium size box held a dozen blank holotapes and instructions on how to record. Sanctuary’s mechanic had been wise enough not to ask what the tapes were for and bid him a shy good night.  

\--

Danse knocked before he entered the tiny house Arthur’s synth had been calling home.  Arthur’s familiar voice flowed freely from synthetic lips in the otherwise silent house and he recognized the familiar click of a finished holotape recording.

The synth looked worse than when he’d seen him in bed with Sole. Preston was right; the haunted look in the blue eyes was painfully familiar as he’d seen his own eyes shortly after Bravo. A9 was nearing the precipice of losing his will to live.

“What do you need, Danse?” He was momentarily caught off guard when the sight of the synth’s bare chest filled his view. The repair job on his arm and chest had been less noticeable but Danse knew where to look for the replacement metal and heavy scars that fixed his injuries from the destroyed Prydwen.  A9 chuckled darkly as he snatched a worn long sleeve shirt from the table beside his bed. 

“Preston knows.” That’s not what he had wanted to say first but he couldn’t take it back.

“I see.” A9 nervously moved the cuffs of his shirt as he passed Danse and made his way into the tiny open kitchen.  “Did he tell everyone else?”

“No.” It hit Danse then that he’d never set foot in the synth’s home before and that it was even less extravagant than his former room on the Prydwen.

The only interior wall was made of half rotted wood and provided some privacy for his bathroom. The rest was the remnants of a pre-war kitchen and a quarter of a living room. The rooms bled together and Danse frowned at the obvious mistreatment. Hell, he hadn’t bothered to help the synth build like he had every other settler that took him up on his offer. Even the bed A9 had fabricated looked uncomfortable.

“It’s not much to look at, I know.”  Danse snapped out of his ogling and accepted the purified water held out to him. “But built it on my own, more or less. I’m proud of it.”  He smirked sadly as he made the brief journey to his fridge and pulled out some Fancy Lad Snacks and what was left from dinner. “Here.”

It took Danse a moment to accept the sugar snack and sat on the battered orange couch next to the door. It was the only piece of furniture to sit on other than A9’s bed. He had no room for a table.

“Thank you.” He held up the box of snacks and smiled. “And I’m sorry I didn’t offer to help you build.”

A9 dismissed his words with a shake of his hand and polished off the rest of his dinner. Sweat beads trailed down from his brow as he leaned back against the couch. Danse couldn’t tell if it was from the situation or the fact that the synth was in a long sleeve shirt in the middle of the summer or if it was from the tenseness between them.

“I expected you not to.” A9 downed his own water and moved to open another that he’d placed on the floor beside his feet. “I’m a living, breathing reminder of your closest friend who you had no idea was replaced.” Danse frowned as the other man held the cool bottle to his sleeved arms and then his neck. “Even though I know you were once…”

Danse coughed and stood faster than A9 could register.  “How did you..”

A9 looked down at his feet then stared ahead of him, “I have almost all of his memories.” Danse’s hand was already turning the doorknob to escape this bizarre situation. “Except for being kidnapped by the Institute. My best guess is Arthur was kidnapped while most of the crew slept. Including him.”  He stood and faced the more muscular synth without stepping further. “ What is scaring you is I know about your feelings for him were more than platonic.”  Danse turned away from the synth and flinched as he gently rested one of his hands on Danse’s chest.  “That I know of your night in the Capital Wasteland.” A9 swallowed and pushed the metaphorical barrier between them. Anything to get a physical reaction out of the former Paladin. “How you both wanted your first time with another man to be with each other…”

“Stop.” Danse’s voice cracked as memories of the weeks before he’d left for the Commonwealth flooded his mind. How he’d been cast aside the same night he’d taken Arthur to bed. How heartbroken he’d been.  

_I have a duty to fulfill, Danse... I am the last Maxson. I hope you understand…_

“You don’t…”  

He turned his head just in time to brush A9’s lips with his own.

Danse’s gut reaction to the gentle kiss was to fist his hand in A9’s shirt and roughly pull him back towards the couch. “What are you doing?” He hissed as he wiped his mouth. “What the fuck are you trying to do?”

“I.. I thought you’d get some closure knowing that he cares for you just as much as you do, Garrison.” The synth stepping into his personal space was too much.  

“You don’t understand.” Danse bit out as his fist collided with A9’s jaw. “ _At all_. You never _knew_ him. You are _not_ him.”   He inhaled sharply and yanked the door open. “You will never be him. Why would I want an obsolete copy of the man I…” He stopped as A9 merely nodded and closed his eyes, waiting for the next punch.  It pained him to know how hard the synth wanted to be punished and how much he’d fucked up in what he’d set out to do tonight; apologize to A9.

“Then why did you save me?” 

“Because you’re innocent.”  Danse quickly stepped through the doorframe and out onto A9’s step. “You never asked for this.”


End file.
